Caleb’s eyebrows rose. “Was I that obvious?”
Her full, beautiful smile came out. “You looked like you were going to track him down and rip his arms off, like Fezzik fromThe Princess Bride.” She imitated the Spaniard’s voice. “‘Fezzik, rip his arms off.’”
Caleb returned her smile, though his gut was still churning. “That was only part of my evil plan.”
“What was the other part?”
“I own a fireworks shop. I was going to set up my best aerial display, aimed right at whatever fancy car he drives, and set it off right as he walks out of practice.”
Emily burst out laughing. “Dinging up his Ferrari would definitely hurt him worse than slamming your fist into his hard head.”
Krew trotted up to them, panting for air. He looked exhausted.
Caleb couldn’t in good conscience chuck the ball again. “Your mama says we need to work on passing and catching.”
Krew blew out an exaggerated breath. “Good. I can’t run any more; my legs might fall off.”
They both laughed. Caleb tossed him a water bottle, and he chugged a few drinks.
Then they walked a short distance away and worked on sharp passes, but his mind was on Emily. She’d been in an abusive relationship. Even if he hadn’t hurt them physically, she’d said that Jeff had been “mean, sometimes scary.” Had she healed? Did that loser still have any contact with her or Krew? Caleb didn’t take much in life seriously, but sometimes things hit him hard—like when his sister Rachel had been badly burned in an explosion last summer, and when he’d found out his twin’s fiancée, Breeze, had been abused as a child. He wanted to right those wrongs.
He glanced over at Emily. She was still standing next to the chair, looking gorgeous with her long, dark hair, her smooth skin, her dark eyes, and her full lips. Could he right her wrongs? Would she let him?